Here's My Card
by unsure-author
Summary: Kenny wishes there was something he could do for his solitary roommate, Craig. However, neither of them are ready for the consequences when Kenny does his best to get someone, anyone, to take Craig Tucker's V-Card.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: This is the new story I'm working on, and hopefully it will involve a little bit of participation from you, the reader!

But more on that later. I just wanted to say thank you to anyone who checks this out, please review because it helps me as an author~

Also, of course, South Park is property of Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

* * *

Kenny jabbed Craig in the side with his elbow and excitedly pointed at the screen. "Jesus, dude, look at her go!" Craig took his attention away from his laptop and tried to pretend that the porn held any appeal.

"Oh yeah, she's… certainly sucking a dick." He drawled before turning away. Kenny scoffed. They were both sitting on Craig's bed. Watching videos and playing PC games was an afterschool ritual they'd had since freshman year. Now that they were graduated, it had kind of grown and devoured their days off.

They shared a cheap apartment together in North Park, struggling to pay their meager rent with their minimum-wage jobs. Neither of them had any aspirations or college plans. While quite a few of their old school mates had gone on to bigger and better things, they felt content with the small life they'd carved out for themselves.

"Not just any dick!" Kenny cried. Craig huffed angrily and blew his bangs away from his eyes. The poor, beleaguered teen realized Kenny wasn't going to leave him alone until he watched this stupid porno. "It's the mother of dicks! It is truly a shining specimen of dickitude that every man on Earth should hold in the highest regard!"

Craig set the laptop down on his nightstand. Or, his half of the nightstand they shared. Their beds, full-sized, were nearly sandwiched together in the only bedroom in their place. The narrow catwalk, only there due to the previously mentioned nightstand, that separated their beds was laughable and barely navigable even by Kenny, who was beanpole skinny.

"You know, you say that about a lot of porn dicks." Craig said.

Kenny grinned his trademark playboy smile, firing back, "Well, I'm impressed by a lot of porn dicks."

"If dick impresses you so much, then why don't you suck one?" Craig pointed at his crotch with both hands and licked his lips.

"Like I said, these are impressive_. _That thing in your pants is a crime against humanity. Or hu-woman-ity."

"Clever."

"What exactly are you sticking that waste of space in anyways?" Kenny said.

Craig groaned. He lay back on the bed and covered his eyes with his hands. "Not this again, Ken."

"Seriously, 'cause if you're gay, you gotta tell me. I have to know, if you're gonna keep giving me hand jobs in the shower," Kenny said before dodging a smack upside his noggin. "Because I ain't gay."

Getting up and leaving his foul-mouthed, dirty-minded roommate on the bed, Craig sidled between the beds and skirted around the television stand. Arriving in the bathroom, he slipped out of his baggy band t-shirt and stared at himself in the mirror.

His black hair flopped in his face, and he reminded himself for the fiftieth time that day to get a haircut. The shaggy disgrace that covered his head was the remnants of an emo kick he'd gone on a year before. The same could be said for the piercing hole in his lower right lip and the rings looped through the cartilage of his left ear. Silently he thanked his past self for not punching any severe holes in his anatomy, and then turned sideways to make sure he was still as trim as ever.

Average height, average build, and average looks, he thought blandly. All of it equals a completely unremarkable young man with no goals, no love life, and a salty roommate.

"Ohhhh Craig!" Kenny called from the room.

"I don't wanna watch you fawn over cock, Ken!" He called back.  
"But there's a notification on your laptop!" Craig stormed into the room and launched himself across the beds at the troublesome blonde. Kenny offered up the laptop to the prostrate Tucker.

Sure enough, Facebook informed him that he had a new message. Kenny peeked over Craig's shoulder. "Please," Kenny said, "tell me it's from someone offering to replace that stick up your ass with something more pleasurable."

Craig flipped him off while responding to Clyde's message. Clyde, in his infinite wisdom, was trying to explain why Craig needed to go to college. Craig responded with a kindly-worded 'fuck-you'. Kenny sighed, kind of let down by the lack of propositions in Craig's inbox. He sincerely wished that his stoic roomie would let some unlucky soul take his V-card. Sharing a room with a proud virgin was hella depressing.

Kenny was just as raunchy and foul as he had been all his life. His greatest accomplishments included avoiding the drugs that usually dragged white trash like him into a never-ending spiral of self-destruction and bedding over half the girls at South Park High. The only one he honestly regretted was Wendy. Stan had been a bit more than peeved when that bombshell dropped.

He was a lean guy, and wiry from fights that had plagued his teenage years. God had blessed him with good looks and an uncanny ability to get into girls' underpants, probably as compensation for being a punching bag for everyone in his family. Kenny refused to be a fighter, so God had made him a five-star lover. He kept his hair at medium length, cut stylishly to enhance his rugged looks. His clothes were carefully picked, optimal for complimenting his white-trash attitude. Nothing got girls hotter than slumming, and Kenny was all too happy to play the Tramp to their Lady.

Kenny crossed his arms over Craig's shoulders and frowned. "Seriously though, Craig, why don't you ever bring girls over? I do it all the time."

"I know." Craig said, gritting his teeth. "I literally sleep a foot away from you, it's like you're fucking them on top of me." His fingers stabbed the keys, the clacks almost overwhelming the fake moans still blaring from the television.

"Well, why haven't you fucked any girls on me?" Kenny whined. Craig couldn't even being to comprehend how Kenny thought it was any of his business. "I'd be real quiet, I promise. Hell, I'll go over to Stan's if it's that big a deal."

"Stan lives an hour's drive away and you don't have a license."

"Craig, I'd fucking walk to Stan's through a foot of snow, or a tornado, or sentient blood mist, if it meant that you would get to finally stick that meat piston of yours into some unsuspecting girl. Or guy."

"Not gay." Craig growled. Kenny laughed softly in his ear. "Kenny…"

"Yes, my innocent sweet heart?" He cooed.

Craig shut the laptop and turned his head, giving Tweek a good glare. "I don't bring people over because I don't know any people besides you. So unless you're planning on getting fucked by me, shut the hell up." Kenny grunted and slid off Craig's back.

That night, as Kenny listened to Craig's soft snoring, he contemplated the lonely life of his virginal cohabitant. He'd never felt the warmth of a woman's body against his, or put his lap rocket inside a hoo-ha. As he drifted off, Kenny made up his mind.

Kenny was going to get Craig Tucker laid.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I really like this chapter! I'm a pretty big tomboy, so I really try to push the masculinity of my characters. Please enjoy, review (I really love reading them!) and feel free to ask questions, suggest things, or point out things you like!

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Craig slammed his work locker shut, resting his forehead on the cool metal. All day long, Kenny had been texting him, sending him pictures of girls in various stages of disrobing. The final straw had been a picture of Kenny with a drunken Jersey-girl sprawled on his lap. The glazed eyes of both parties spoke to the level of inebriation they shared. She wore only a thong and a smile, and underneath the sordid photo was a single sentence,_ 'this girl is always DTF you in buddy?'_ Craig had sent back a fiery response, and to make matters worse, his manager had caught him texting and sent him home early. Angrily he resolved that Kenny was going to pay him back for the missed pay. His job, cashiering at the local Walgreens, wasn't a good one but it put Ramen on the table.

As he clocked out, he tried to fathom why Kenny was so insistent that he have sex. His mind wandered while he walked through the employee area to the main floor, briefly puzzling over what the male equivalent of 'popping your cherry' was. That was when he heard the noise.

He was passing the men's bathroom when he heard it. A cross between sobbing and moaning was faintly emanating from behind the door. Probably just some heroin addict shaking off the DTs, he thought sarcastically. Craig swung the door open and walked directly to the stall that seemed to be the origin of the noise. Even though he was off the clock, he felt obligated to shake out whatever druggie was sweating it out in the stall. Besides, he might use it one day and he didn't want someone to die in there and start haunting it.

"Hey." He said firmly in what he hoped was a managerial tone. The sobbing quickly stopped, and he heard a sniffle. "What's going on in there?"

"Nothing!" Whoever it was, they were obviously in denial about their problem. Craig grinned, eager at the opportunity to remind a lowly dreg of society their place in the world.

"Sorry, but you're going to have to get the hell out of here. We don't want sad people in our restrooms, tarnishing Walgreen's shining good name." Craig leaned against the frame and acted as disinterested as possible, in case the freak came charging out. He wanted to look cool before getting punched. Maybe he could even sue Walgreens for being injured on their property…

The door to the stall did not fly open, it creaked slowly. Craig's eyebrows shot up as pale fingers inched their way around the door. Out stepped a tall, broad-shouldered young man with tousled blonde hair. His eyes were sunk deep in his face, which had that awful red puffy been-crying look to it. He wore a chocolaty brown t-shirt that had read 'Aperture Science' under a plain green unbuttoned button-up shirt. Big, goofy looking hiking boots were haphazardly laced, offsetting his skinny jeans and generally making him look like he got dressed out of the bargain bin at Goodwill. He glared at Craig, running the back of his hands under his eyes to wipe away all evidence of tears.

"Problem, asshole?" He said angrily. Craig smirked and leaned forward. His attempt at looking threatening quickly failed, as the kid was easily six inches taller than he was.

"Yeah, you're making too much noise in here."

A sneer rose to the kid's face before he took a worn satchel from the hook on the stall door. "Well, then get out, man." He said. As he walked to the sinks, it dawned on Craig that he'd seen that satchel before.

"Shit, Tweek?" Craig said, feeling equal parts flustered and foolish. The blonde looked at him in the mirror's reflection and nodded curtly. He then set about washing his hands in an extremely methodical fashion. "It's me, Craig!"

"I know." Tweek said simply. Craig was floored. "That's why I called you an asshole." Tweek shook his hands vigorously, preparing them for the futile efforts of the hand-dryer.

"Well, I'm sorry," Craig mumbled. Tweek scoffed and turned to leave.

Craig stalked out of the bathroom on Tweek's heels, anger threatening to take control. Where did Tweek get off refusing his apology? "What's your deal?" He asked.

Crying out in frustration, Tweek whirled around. They were in the middle of the hair dye aisle, but Tweek definitely did not use his inside voice. "You're the one harassing me in the bathroom! Go away!"

Never good at listening, Craig dogged Tweek all the way out to the parking lot, stopping only to flip off his manager behind his fat manager back. When they reached Tweek's car, Craig grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around so they could face each other.

"I know," Craig said, "I was being an ass, but I didn't know it was you in the stall."

"Oh, I thought you were being so sweet because it was me. Good to know you can be a dick to everyone." Tweek retorted.

Craig was stunned for a minute. Where was the shy kid he'd briefly befriended in elementary? This wasn't Tweek; it had to be some alien imposter. "I've had a bad day, Tweek." The excuse felt lame leaving his mouth and left a bad taste.

"Boo-hoo. Leave me alone." He started to turn from Craig, and then suddenly turned back. "In fact, let's pretend you never saw me, ok? Just forget the whole thing." He crammed his satchel into the back seat of his car and started it up before Craig could comprehend what was even going on.

"What the hell, Tweek, I said I was sorry," Craig weakly said as the car pulled out of the parking lot. Walking to his own car, he pulled out his phone and fired off a message to Kenny. _Just saw Tweek at Walgreens crying his eyes out in the bathroom WTF. _Kenny replied within seconds.

_Damn, haven't heard from him in like weeks._

_Weeks?! _Craig sent back. He sat in the front seat of his car waiting for the reply.

_Yeah I have him on FB we talk every once in a while. Why was he crying?_

_Don't know._ Craig stashed the phone in the console under his radio and started the car. As he waited for the heat to warm up, he mulled over his encounter. After reviewing his behavior, he decided he had indeed been a dick to Tweek. Shame flooded his stomach. Part of him wanted to blame it on the manager and getting his hours cut, but that was a bullshit reason and he knew it. He had wanted to take out his anger on some random stranger, maybe even get into a fight and release some stress. Instead, he'd alienated an old friend, although Tweek hadn't seemed friendly in the slightest.

Craig turned the radio up on the way home, trying to lose himself in some music, but all of his favorite stations were blaring commercials. A block from his house, he was stopped a long light and took the time to delete the skanky picture from his phone. What a fucking miserable day, he thought as the sordid photos of buxom women disappeared one by one from his inbox.

The smell of cooking meat hit Craig as he opened the door, and he began to salivate. Tossing his work bag on the ratty couch in the living/dining room and kicking off his Vans, he slid across the wood floors on his socks into the kitchen. There, Kenny was pulling a casserole dish topped in tinfoil out of the oven.

"Thank god, Kenny," Craig groaned, "I have had a terrible day, and I could go for some home cooking."

Kenny chuckled and peeled the tinfoil off, revealing a rack of ribs. Craig felt as if he'd died and gone to heaven. Kenny began to separate the ribs and Craig realized there was also a pot of mashed potatoes on the stove-top and bread rolls in a bowl on the table. His excitement immediately turned to suspicion.

"Who died?" He asked. Kenny looked up in surprise.

"No one, weirdo." Kenny grabbed two plates, mismatched and bought at a thrift store, and began serving ribs and potatoes onto them.

"Do you need to borrow money or something?" Craig asked. There was no way Kenny would make all this for no good reason.

"Nope." Kenny said as he passed Craig a plate. Craig tried to remain suspicious in the face of delicious ribs and creamy potatoes, but it was a futile effort. They settled down on the couch and turned on the television, which was hooked up to rabbit ears and got them basic channels. That meant a lot of watching PBS and weather forecasts. Tonight, CW, which was the younger brother version of Fox, was playing some reruns of King of Queens. Kenny awkwardly cleared his throat, and Craig knew he was about to learn what had inspired the meal.

"So, I guess I'm sorry about sending you those pictures." Kenny said. Craig nodded. "I just worry about you."

Craig swallowed a bite of food before replying, "There's nothing wrong with not fucking everything that moves."

"I know," Kenny said, "It's just that you've been alone for a really long time."

"I'm just not interested in anyone." Craig grumbled.

Kenny sighed. "Ok, fine. I'll stop messing with you." They ate in silence for a while, until Kenny asked, "So, you saw Tweek?"

"Oh yeah. He was crying in the stalls at Walgreens. I was in a shitty mood and insulted him before I realized who he was, and then he left. He seemed really upset." Craig said.

"Let me use your laptop later, maybe I can figure out what's wrong with him."

Craig gritted his teeth. "Last time you used my computer I spent three days fixing it."

"How was I supposed to know that porn site was malicious?" Kenny asked, gesturing with his fork. "I trust porn, man."

When the meal was over, Craig begrudgingly passed his laptop into Kenny's puerile possession. As Kenny tapped a message out to Tweek, Craig admired the way his fingers flew so skillfully over the keys. He was an incredibly fast typist.

"How'd you get so good?" Craig mumbled.

"I eat my Wheaties every morning and jack off every night." Kenny said offhand. He leaned back and gave Craig a wolfish grin. Craig flipped him off, sorry he'd even bothered to take an interest in anyone but himself.

Kenny whistled softly. "So, while we wait for a response, wanna look at Brazzers?" He laughed as Craig pulled him into a headlock.

"Fuck that!" Craig growled. The two teens play-fought for a few minutes. Their violent thrashing and shouts filling the tiny apartment. The cramped confines of their room were perfect for fighting, they could roll around on the beds and there was no floor to fall to. Kenny broke away from Craig, panting, when the computer dinged softly.

"That's Tweek!" Kenny shouted. Craig slapped him upside his head once more for good measure and joined him staring at the computer.

**Conversation with Tweek Tweak:**

**Kenny: Hey bro u alright? Heard u had a run in w my boi craig and he was douchin on u, whats up?**

Craig rolled his eyes. No wonder Kenny could type so fast: when one got rid of grammar and spelling, it was a breeze.

**Tweek: Yeah he's a real douche. I was pissed off cuz of something that happened earlier that day**

** Not really antyhing important**

** *anything**

Kenny scoffed lightly and replied. Craig looked on, trying not to be agitated by two people calling him a douche within a five minute span.

**Kenny: what happnd**

**Tweek: Break up. T^T**

**Kenny: awwwwww some bitch broke ur heart bro**

**Tweek: Some bastard.**

Craig gasped, and Kenny elbowed him in the side. "Tweek's gay?" Craig whispered. Kenny groaned.

"Yes, now shut the fuck up and let me focus."

"You're not fucking hacking a computer, you're messaging… Poorly, I might add." Craig hissed.

**Kenny: i kno i kno but any1 who wuld break up w/u is a bitch in my book tweek**

**Tweek: Aw, thanks. That means a lot… I guess? :P**

**Kenny: btw craig is sorry for being a dick**

**Tweek: Fff, whatever.**

**Kenny: no rly he said he wants 2 take u on a dinner date to make up for it**

"What the fuck!" Craig shouted, shoving the laptop across the bed where Kenny couldn't get his evil fingers on it. "What's your problem, Kenny?"

Kenny huffed. "It is just a joke, asshole, stop overreacting. Change your tampon, Tucker!" He narrowly avoided another slap from Craig, grinning evilly.

The laptop pinged, and Craig's stomach turned over. Great, now he was gonna look like a huge queer, all because of his douche roommate. Craig pulled the computer onto his lap, letting Kenny savor one more angry look before reading the response.

"What… the… fuck." He said.

**Tweek: Hmm, why not? When and where?**


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I really like phở. It's pronounced like, 'Fuhh'. And I was not down for making a funky kind of 'o' for the entire story, so forgive me. ^^;

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Tweek sat at the counter of the coffee shop, toying with the green straw poking from his drink. He liked watching the way the cup tilted and the liquid tried to balance itself. If only people were so stable, he thought sadly.

Why had he accepted a dinner proposal from that asshole? He wondered. Fucking hormones, was what it was. Just the brain's chemical addiction to love, that's all this was. And besides, Craig wasn't even gay. He was like some weird, asexual robot, which was a shame considering how well he'd developed. Tweek sighed. He was a gangly nerd, addicted to caffeine and Internet use. Even if Craig ever felt a little homo, there was no way some awkward loser like Tweek would be the one to stir it up.

"Damn it." He groaned under his breath. There was no way he'd be able to sit through a lunch with Craig unless he stopped being so damn negative. Tucker was sure to bring plenty of pessimism with him, anyways. Tweek straightened his posture, trying to force himself into an assertive mood.

His hair was wild, as he rarely took the time to style it, untamed by sleep and stress. He wore a green plaid button-up shirt with pearl snaps, making him look like a cowboy-themed scarecrow. His jeans were tight, black skinny jeans, and he wore a ratty pair of 'Tomato Red' Chuck-style Converse. All in all, not too bad a look for a casual day out, he thought. He'd certainly worn worse on dates with way cooler people and come out smiling.

His tablet was on the counter in front of him, and he compulsively checked the time again. It was 3:54 pm, and Craig wasn't to show up until 4:00. Tweek drummed his fingers on the counter and then ordered a chai tea from the cute little barista. She was like a little pixie, short hair and bright eyes. Tweek slyly observed her mannerisms, trying to determine what kind of person she was at home. He was an avid people-watcher.

"Uh, Tweek." Craig's voice came from behind him. It took all of his resolve to not jump or shriek. Tweek hated surprises.

He turned in his chair and looked at Craig. "Yes, Craig?" He said, his voice dripping with insincerity. The cattiness of his voice masked the quivering in his heart as his eyes wandered over Craig's form.

He was so short it was adorable, Tweek thought, almost laughing. His hair was fluffy and styled, and a silver stud graced his lips. It was at odds with his masculine looks and gruff expression. He wore a slightly baggy t-shirt that read 'I'm not a klepto but I did steal your girlfriend'. His jeans were straight legged and ripped almost to shreds and he wore black skater shoes. All in all, Tweek thought, not an attractive look.

"You're ready for like, this thing right?" Craig mumbled. Tweek smirked.

"Nervous, Tucker?" Tweek asked. Craig shook his head, but the blush told all. Tweek grinned. "I'm not going to hurt you. Where are we going?"

Craig frowned. "I thought you had an idea."

The nervous blonde was completely baffled by Craig's ineptitude. "Seriously? Way to make up for being a dick, Tucker, now I just think you're a loser." Tweek grumbled. He received his chai tea from the pixie barista, who flashed a sly smile at Craig. Tweek ignored Craig's flustered response, tucking his tablet computer into a well-loved backpack. They left the coffee shop, Tweek leading the way. He walked up to his bike and spun the combination lock.

"So, are you just going to leave?" Craig asked. Tweek nodded curtly and pulled his bike from the stand. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are, Craig." Tweek said. He sighed harshly. "But I really don't want to bother with you right now, ok? I came here to oblige Kenny." Craig's eyes bulged, and he sputtered. "Don't be so surprised, Kenny's always trying to set people up. Why in the hell would you want to take me out for lunch? Obviously it was him."

Craig grabbed a handle bar and craned his neck to stare into Tweek's eyes. "I'm capable of taking someone out." He growled.

"I'm sure." Tweek said, shaking the bike and attempting to loosen Craig's grip. "With your amazing fashion sense and finely-honed conversational skills, I'm surprised girls aren't all over you." Craig held firm, a scowl darkening his face. It was an incredibly ugly look, and it agitated Tweek.

They stood like that for a minute. The tension began to wear Tweek down, and his hands on the bike were sweating.

"Let me… let me try." Craig said. Tweek's shoulders and neck were tight, and a slight pain radiated up to his skull. Damn it, he thought.

"Fine!" Tweek shouted, slamming the bike back into place. He locked up his precious bike and turned to face Craig, huffing angrily. "There's a Pho restaurant down the street, take me there."

As they walked, Craig with his hands stuffed in his pockets and Tweek fidgeting with the buckle on his satchel, Craig was silently panicking. How was he supposed to be a good companion? What would they talk about, what would he do? He'd never taken anyone out, and was especially nervous about taking out a boy.

"What's Pho?" He asked suddenly. Tweek jerked spastically and sighed.

"It's a really good kind of broth soup." Tweek said softly. "Basically they give you a big bowl with noodles and your choice of meats. Also, they give you a plate of raw stuff to put in it like jalapenos and minty leaves and sprouts."

Craig smiled softly. "That sounds really good."

Tweek nodded. "I usually put lots of this brown sauce stuff in it. I have no clue what the hell it is, but it tastes awesome."

They passed a few trivial remarks between them as they walked to the restaurant. Inside, Craig relished the savory smells coming from the kitchen. He'd never even thought of trying a place like this.

Tweek slide a menu across the table to Craig and began to drum his fingers. "You don't need this?" Craig asked.

"Nah. These places always have brisket as an option, and that's my favorite." He said simply.

They ordered their drinks and Craig was left to puzzle over the menu's confusing layout. Eventually he settled for a medium bowl of Pho with meatballs and pork. Sipping on his drink, he felt creeping tendrils of panic take hold of his brain. Now what?

"So… Tweek, you're living here in North Park?" Craig stammered.

Tweek nodded. There was a strange calm aura surrounding him, Craig noticed. He thought back to a year ago, to graduation. Tweek had been a tad shorter and a whole lot crazier. During the ceremony, Tweek almost tripped walking across the stage, and later that night at a party had passed out on the front lawn after raving about underpants gnomes. How did that crazy kid become this haughty and refined young adult?

"I didn't move too far from South Park because I'm helping my dad with his business. In case you were wondering." Tweek said.

It was awkward and weird for both of them. During school they'd rarely spoken to each other, and Craig had always thought that Tweek was too weird to be a viable friend. Tweek, on the other hand, had always seen Craig as kind of a douche. When the Pho arrived, Craig thanked God that there was finally some distraction from the heavy silence that had been stewing between them.

"Wow, that smells great." Craig said, grinning. Tweek grinned right back.

"Yeah, and look at this." Tweek gestured to the slivers of pink brisket on a side dish. "The broth is so hot it will cook the meat, and it'll be fresh and tender."

"Jesus, that is amazing!" Craig gasped. "Food is so damn awesome."

"Totally." Tweek agreed. He squirted copious amounts of a brown sauce into his broth bowl and stirred it vigorously. "There's rooster sauce, too. That spicy stuff."

Craig stuck his tongue out. "I hate spices." He took a spoon and scooted the jalapenos across the shared plate towards Tweek, who took them graciously.

"You know, you should try at least one slice of peppers in the Pho, it adds a little kick!" Tweek said. Craig shuddered, remembering the aftermath of the last spicy food he'd eaten. Chorizo definitely did not agree with him. Suddenly, he smiled. Here they were, not awkward, not frustrated.

"This is cool." He said softly. Tweek looked up at him, thick noodles dangling from his mouth. He nodded a little, drops of broth scattering across the table. Slurping up the noodles, Tweek stabbed a piece of brisket and offered it to Craig.

It was a test of sorts, or at least that was how it felt. Craig often felt that little gestures, the small jokes and offers, were the things that created a friendship. In his mind, he realized there were two ways to take the offered treat: by taking the fork into his own hands, or allowing Tweek to feed it to him. Here's where his problems always started: over-thinking every little thing. Somewhere deep inside, he knew that this was inconsequential, but his nervous mind blew the brisket up to dangerous proportions.

He closed his eyes and leaned in, taking the cooling brisket into his mouth with a satisfying smack. The hot tines of the fork dragged across his lips as he pulled back. Flavor flooded his mouth and he smiled in spite of his nerves screaming in embarrassment. When he opened his eyes, Tweek was grinning, seemingly unaffected by what Craig had played out in his head as a dramatic moment.

Inside, Tweek was trembling. Craig was plain, rough around the edges, and generally unpleasant… But in that moment, he had been different. Eyes closed, a flash of unruly teeth, and the pink softness of his lips as they wrapped around the fork… it was a moment worthy of a slow-motion replay. It was filed away for another day, another time. For now, Tweek had to focus on making it through the rest of the meal without completely flipping out.

"Damn, this stuff is so good." Craig said. He stuffed his mouth with noodles and relished the crunch of the bean sprouts. "So, what happened to you? You're… calmer."

"Yeah, I guess so huh?" Tweek said. "I had some therapy, got exercise, and just came to terms with being a crazy fuck." His voice had a little bite to it. Obviously it wasn't a topic he considered open to discussion.

Unfortunately, Craig wasn't well-versed in the nuances of polite conversation, and he kept poking at the subject. "Mm, therapy huh? How long did you have to go?"

Tweek sighed. "A year, ok?" He angrily stabbed a slice of jalapeno and crunched it between his molars. Thankfully, Craig finally took the hint and shut up.

A few minutes of awkward silence passed. Craig cleared his throat and smiled weakly. "So, can I say thanks for letting me take you out to lunch?"

"Yeah, I guess." Tweek said. He sounded exasperated, and a cold sweat formed on the back of Craig's neck. He nervously fiddled with his fork. "Look, sorry Craig. It's just… not something I'm comfortable with talking about." Craig nodded, eager to put things back on track.

"You know," Tweek said, smiling softly, "you're kind of a people pleaser." A puzzled look crossed Craig's face. "In school you just seemed like this big asshole, but I think deep down you do want people to like you."

"Hmph, maybe." Craig said.

They finished their bowls, and Craig paid for the meal despite Tweek's protests. "Look, I was an asshole to you, this is my way of making it up to you." Craig said.

They walked back to Tweek's bike, where Craig suddenly panicked. Now what? Was he supposed to just walk back to his car, was he supposed to invite Tweek over?

Tweek solved the problem for him, grinning while he unlocked his bike. "I have to get going, got some important stuff to do at home. Tell Ken I said hi!" He pulled the bike from the rack and offered a hand to Craig.

Craig awkwardly shook his hand, feeling both relieved. Tweek glided away on his bike, and Craig was left standing on the sidewalk.


End file.
